The Ghost Insists on Giving Me a Beautiful and Powerful Wife! - Chapter 49.2

The woman wore a vibrant red dress and exquisite makeup, yet it couldn’t hide her deathly pallor. Her neck, which wasn’t covered by makeup, was so white it was translucent; the path of every vein beneath the skin was clearly visible. She had pitch-black hair that reached her ankles, making her appear even more fragile and thin, as if a light breeze could blow her away.

She carried a very faint scent of incense ash. For a moment, Yu Ruoyin couldn’t tell if she was a human or a ghost.

The woman was not offended by Yu Ruoyin’s wariness. Sensing her fear, she took the initiative to stand much further away.

Only after there was a two-meter gap between them did the woman continue the conversation. “You don’t need to be so afraid. What was haunting you just now was neither a ghost nor a spirit; it was merely a sliver of a ‘delusion’ (wangnian). It has vanished now; you are safe.”

“A delusion?”

“Yes.” The woman nodded earnestly. “This village is cursed; its yin energy is potent and its malice runs deep. With so many people having died here recently, setting up a formation is easy. However, we didn’t expect to encounter the Yin-Yang Dual Chess Formation. You probably haven’t heard of it—it’s been lost for a thousand years, and I’ve only seen brief descriptions in books. According to the records, this formation acts like a miniature realm between the living and the dead. It gathers (sha/malevolent energy) to create ‘Yin’ and gathers killing intent to create ‘Yang.’ Once drawn into the formation, living beings are pulled to the Yin side, and dead things to the Yang side. The Yin-sha deals with the living, and the Yang-slaughter deals with the dead, using the principle of mutual restraint to ensure no one leaves. And…”

The woman paused, looking at Yu Ruoyin with deep meaning. “And those who are neither truly alive nor truly dead are drawn here. They die at the hands of their own delusions. A ‘delusion’ is both what the heart most desires and what it most fears.”

Yu Ruoyin froze. She hesitated over whether to trust the woman, but if her explanation was true, everything made sense.

That morbid “Jiang Huaining” hadn’t been lying. She was indeed Jiang Huaining, and she was also Yu Ruoyin.

Yu Ruoyin’s greatest desire was for Jiang Huaining to belong only to her; her greatest fear was that Jiang Huaining would see through her vileness. The delusion was a part of her—it was a Jiang Huaining born of her own fantasies. Because the delusion carried her own aura, the protective spiritual energy Jiang Huaining had left on her hadn’t been triggered.

Yu Ruoyin instinctively touched her neck. She remembered being bitten by the fake Jiang Huaining, but her fingers found no mark or wound. As the entity vanished, the bone-chilling cold had also disappeared. Everything just now truly seemed to have been a hallucination.

Furthermore, Yu Ruoyin was indeed a person who was “neither alive nor dead,” relying on Jiang Huaining’s spiritual energy to appear as a normal human. Aside from herself and Jiang Huaining, perhaps only Lu Qingzhen knew this.

Is she telling the truth?

But we’ve never met. Why is she helping me?

Besides, if this formation is as powerful as she says, how did she resolve the delusion so easily?

And… if she’s telling the truth, then isn’t she…

Yu Ruoyin couldn’t help but steal a few more glances at the woman. She was breathing, but she certainly didn’t look like a living person. Yu Ruoyin’s state was due to Jiang Huaining, but what about this woman?

Having successfully entered the path of a Painter-Witch, Yu Ruoyin remembered much of the books’ contents. She knew many practitioners of the dark arts would stop at nothing to stay alive, eventually turning themselves into something neither human nor ghost.

An evil sorceress?

Yu Ruoyin took two steps back. The woman frowned and followed her, taking two steps forward. “You can’t get too far from me, or the things on my person won’t affect you. If that happens, you’ll be entangled by delusions again.”

The woman shook her wrists, and only then did Yu Ruoyin notice they were covered in objects. On her left wrist hung a golden bell, a green jade bracelet, and a red string threaded with ancient copper coins. On her right wrist was a string of Buddhist beads, a silver bracelet engraved with willow leaves, and a peach blossom cord.

Yu Ruoyin’s lips trembled slightly. She recognized these from the books; every single one was a treasure for resisting evil. Most importantly, these items generally couldn’t be used by the non-living—otherwise, Jiang Huaining likely would have prepared some for her. She looked at the woman strangely. “Can… can you use those things?”

“I cannot.” The woman was candid, her eyes lowering. “Their master can.”

She touched the willow-leaf silver bracelet. Suddenly, the silver turned blood-red, and the willow leaves transformed into flowing liquid blood. Upon closer inspection, the blood turned into microscopic threads that wrapped around the other items, constantly fueling them with “blood-qi.” It was this blood-qi that drove them.

The silver bracelet seemed similar to Yu Ruoyin’s Red Jade Fruit—it could store things. However, its master used it to store blood.

Yu Ruoyin knew very well that many Yin-Yang techniques consumed a lot of blood. Especially when a Taoist used such treasures, the more powerful the activation, the more blood was required. This woman was carrying at least five active treasures… the person who gave her these things was either a walking blood bank or a lunatic.

A lunatic.

Yu Ruoyin wanted to stay away even more. She had a feeling that if she got too close to this woman, she would definitely be held in contempt by whoever provided that blood.

However, since she now mostly believed the woman’s words, she didn’t dare wander too far. She huddled cautiously in her spot, racking her brain for Painter-Witch techniques to find a way to resist the delusions and break the formation’s barriers on her own.

Perhaps bored from being alone, the woman took the initiative to strike up a conversation. “Actually, you don’t need to be so afraid of me. We’ve met before.”

Met?

Yu Ruoyin looked the woman over carefully several times but still couldn’t remember where she had seen her.

The woman sighed and offered a reminder. “In the Ghost Market, I was the one who told Xiao Xuan to take you to the Wuxiang Gallery to buy Painter-Witch materials.”

Yu Ruoyin finally remembered. She had asked a black-robed figure for directions in the Ghost Market. She remembered the one she had grabbed was fierce and cold, and if the other black-robed figure hadn’t spoken up, that person wouldn’t have led them to the gallery. So, the woman before her was the one who had spoken.

But back then, they were all covered in robes and masks. How did she recognize her?

Yu Ruoyin was stunned. “How… how did you recognize me?”

“I don’t recognize you, but I recognize the aura of a Painter-Witch.” A hint of loneliness appeared in the woman’s eyes. “Nowadays, the only people who can still practice Painter-Witchcraft are Xiao Xuan and you, who bought those materials that day.”

The woman was essentially telling Yu Ruoyin that the cold figure she had grabbed that day was the last descendant of the Kang family—Kang Miaoxuan. No wonder Nie Huan, the owner of the Wuxiang Gallery, had been so respectful; that was the last bloodline of the Kangs.

But… what was this woman’s identity? Were these items given to her by Kang Miaoxuan?

Yu Ruoyin now fully trusted her. She couldn’t help but say, “Thank you for the last time, and thank you for rescuing me now. But… may I ask what your relationship is with the Kang family?”

The woman reached out her hand toward Yu Ruoyin and smiled apologetically. “I forgot to mention. My name is Kang Shuming.”

Kang Shuming!

Yu Ruoyin had heard this name recently from Zhuang Huaishu. She was the favorite niece of Ying Zhu’s incarnation, Kang Shuying. Her name had even been chosen by Kang Shuying based on Zhuang Huaishu’s courtesy name. But hadn’t the Kang family been wiped out, leaving only Kang Miaoxuan? What was going on? How was she still alive?

It wasn’t that Yu Ruoyin wanted to curse her savior, but every rumor she had heard about the Kangs was that only Kang Miaoxuan remained. So what about her? Being “neither alive nor dead” still meant existing in the mortal realm. Why had she never heard of her?

Dazed, Yu Ruoyin reached out and shook Kang Shuming’s hand. “Hello, I am… I am Yu Ruoyin.”

Kang Shuming was pale and fragile, but her smile was warm. “You can call me Auntie. My age should be enough to warrant that title.”

She said so, but she looked very young—only in her twenties. Yu Ruoyin couldn’t bring herself to say it, nor did she really want to. To this day, the only person she was willing to call “Auntie” was Jiang Huaining. Her emotions were becoming strange; she only wanted to give certain titles to one specific person.

“Sister Shuming, thank you.”

Not “Auntie.” Kang Shuming looked a bit disappointed. She let go of Yu Ruoyin’s hand and touched her own face. “I forgot. I no longer age.”

At this moment, Kang Shuming looked like a withered bamboo swaying in the wind—the base already snapped, held together only by a thin strip of bark. In truth, she was already dead—not just in body, but in will. This state looked familiar; she had seen it in Zhuang Huaishu. They both disliked their frozen appearances and resented themselves. However, while Zhuang Huaishu was filled with a mixture of resentment and loathing for Ying Zhu, Kang Shuming seemed only to have a solitary loneliness.

Yu Ruoyin became curious. “Sister Shuming, can I ask… what your delusion is?”

Kang Shuming didn’t answer, but her eyes instinctively flicked in another direction. Yu Ruoyin followed her gaze and saw two girls standing there, one large and one small. The younger one looked about ten, while the older one seemed even more mature than Kang Shuming’s current face. The two girls looked very much alike; their features were almost perfectly scaled versions of each other.

They were bound by black chains, and their mouths were sealed shut.

Kang Shuming had killed Yu Ruoyin’s delusion but hadn’t laid a finger on her own. Why? Could she not kill them, or could she not bear to?

Suddenly, the green jade bracelet on Kang Shuming’s wrist glowed. The chains around the two girls tightened instantly, the crushing force nearly pulverizing them. Not just Yu Ruoyin, but Kang Shuming herself was stunned. She rushed toward the girls, and Yu Ruoyin, fearing the return of her own delusions, followed closely.

When they reached the girls, Kang Shuming grabbed the chains, trying to communicate with the bracelet. “They were born because of you, after all.”

The chains didn’t stop; instead, they shook Kang Shuming off. She reached out in a panic, accidentally knocking loose the seals on the girls’ mouths. The moment she heard their voices, Yu Ruoyin realized they were the same person.

The ten-year-old girl was crying: “Auntie, Auntie, don’t die! Xuan-er only has you left.”

The woman in her twenties was laughing: “Auntie, where are you going to run? You only have Xuan-er left.”

Kang Shuming stopped moving. She allowed the chains to snap the waists and necks of the two girls, watching them shatter before her eyes and vanish into a thin mist.

Yu Ruoyin tactfully refrained from prying further and changed the subject. “Sister Shuming, do you know how to leave this place?”

Yu Ruoyin had a hunch: unlike herself, who was trapped, Kang Shuming was someone who could leave but simply didn’t want to.

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